


Little Miss Devious

by sandean_cas



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Dildos, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Domme, Edgeplay, Edging, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy BDSM, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mistress, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Switching, Top Drop, Unrequited Love, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandean_cas/pseuds/sandean_cas
Summary: It is just a song. A song she listens to all the time. It’s soothing almost. She doesn’t know exactly when it happened but her breaths suddenly seems shallow.Thoughts of Michael, her sub, who seems so distant lately pop into her foggy mind. He says he’s busy and she gets that, but sometimes she needs him too. Though she could never find the right words to tell him that. Every time she tried, her fingers would freeze or she’d backspace the entire paragraph. Because it’s unfair.But every time he gets busy for days she’d panic. Checking her phone at every chime, hoping it's him. The worry. The fear of him leaving… it’s debilitating sometimes. Most times.But she could never imagine telling him that.The domme is the one who’s supposed to take care of the sub and somewhere along the way she got that mixed up. Her hand flies to her mouth, pushing back another sob and a bout of nausea.Despite the tumultuous emotions she’s experiencing, she knows exactly what’s happening. She’s dropping. Had been for the longest time.Top drop.Dom drop.The internet didn’t have very many resources on that topic.But why is this happening to her?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 13
Kudos: 11





	1. Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> To my followers who're probably expecting some Destiel... this is NOTHING like my usual writing. This is like a whole other realm and if that doesn't interest you I just thought I'd give you a little warning :)
> 
> For those who want to keep reading please keep in mind that some heavy themes will be discussed here including: Dom and Sub drop, panic attacks, feelings of inadequacy, anxiety and possibly more as things progress.

It is just a song. A song she listens to all the time. It’s soothing almost. On lonely nights, while studying, as she’s doing now. She doesn’t know exactly when it happened but her breath suddenly seems short. Nothing more than short gasps made it past her lips. Heart pounding, mind racing, she tries to even her breaths to no avail. 

Then come the waterworks. Sudden and violent, combining with sounds of sniffling and heavy breathing. She could feel it all crashing around her for days now… in truth months. Slowly but surely she felt herself fracturing under the seemingly ceaseless pressure. But she ignored it - she _always_ ignored it - and it always went away. However it's breathtakingly clear that this time is different... it isn’t going away.

The ache… the deep pain of unworthiness refuses to leave, like an unwanted guest who eats all your food. She ignored it for so long that when it reared it’s head this time it did so with a fiery vengeance that would not be cast aside. There’s no ignoring it now.

The doubts came flooding in, smashing into her already taught chest. The lack of oxygen should have slowed her thoughts but for some reason it only serves to speed them up. In those excruciating, terrifying, moments all she can think of was the things that went wrong. 

The things she perceived to be wrong.

Adam, the boy who she felt like she could tell anything to if she wasn’t half in love with him.

Michael, her sub, who seems so distant lately. He says he’s busy and she gets that, but sometimes she needs him too. Though she could never find the right words to tell him that. Every time she tried, her fingers would freeze or she’d backspace the entire paragraph. Because it’s unfair. She’s being unfair. To herself to him. It’s wrong to throw whatever she’s feeling onto him.

As the sub in their relationship, she recognises that he has his own emotions to deal with. He doesn’t need the person who’s supposed to be helping him recover dumping their problems onto him.

But every time he gets busy for days she’d panic. Checking her phone at every chime, hoping it's him and when it isn’t, wondering how she managed to push him away. After reminding herself that he has a life a few hours pass and the cycle repeats.

The worry. The fear of him leaving… it’s debilitating sometimes. Most times.

But she could never imagine telling him that.

The domme is the one who’s supposed to take care of the sub and somewhere along the way she got that mixed up. Her hand flies to her mouth, pushing back another sob and a bout of roiling nausea. This isn’t what a dominant is supposed to be.

They’re supposed to be in control. _Present._ Ready to take care of their sub just as they are ready to drive them wild with desire.

Is that where she went wrong? Is that why he’s pulling away? And is he even pulling away? Is this all an overreaction?

A string of sobs burst from her then, caught by the hands she uses to shield her face.

The solitude of her room taunts her.

There’s no comfort here. No life.

Hastily she casts a hand out, slamming her finger into the pause button on the keyboard. She blinks the tears from her eyes shakily, wondering why this happened now. Nothing kinky was happening… nothing in the slightest. Their last scene had been days ago and even that had been a pretty tame affair. Some teasing and edging before finally letting him orgasm.

As she slowly comes back to herself, she analyses the scene. Thinking about what could have gone wrong. What she could have done better.

Despite the tumultuous emotions she’s experiencing, she knows exactly what’s happening. She’s dropping. Had been for the longest time.

Top drop.

Dom drop.

Whatever.

The internet doesn’t have very many resources on that topic anyway.

But why is this happening to her?

The scene they did wasn’t nearly as intense as their usual play. Things had been going well up until the moment she sat down and put her headphones in. She hadn’t been the one to bear the emotional brunt of being brought to the edge over and over that had all been Michael. So _why_ is she dropping now?

All the blogs she’s read suggest talking to someone. But that’s harder than one would think.

Kink is taboo. She can’t talk to her real life friends. She can’t talk to Michael. Or Adam. Or anyone. Not without them judging.

She presses her eyes closed as her breathing becomes ragged once more. She half wishes she’d just pass out from the stress her body is enduring. She wishes she could make it across the room to the bottle of vodka sitting prettily on her dresser and just drown it out like it always does using the burning liquid and the mental release it provides.

But the feelings have already risen like a ball in her throat and she expects trying to drown it now would only cause her to choke and suffocate.

_It’ll get better._

Slowly, tentatively, she forces herself to take regular breaths. Her vision refocuses. Her lungs don’t feel like crumpled brown bags but the weight on her heart is heavier than it’s ever been. She’s a hair's breadth from another breakdown and the panic that realisation brings almost triggers it.

Somehow, she manages to stay in control long enough for her eyes to find their way to her laptop screen.

That’s when she sees it. The name of the song that triggered it. The title of the song sits there smugly, taunting her. She'd thrash the entire laptop if it didn't cost as much as a plane ticket So instead she stares at it until her vision becomes blurred again as she lets out a shuddering sigh.

The song? Breathe by Lauv.


	2. Bad Apple

The morning after she fell apart was sunny, a little cloudy but that didn’t stop the sun from streaming past her curtains and into her eyes. A quick glance at the clock tells her it’s nine in the morning. Scarlet slept for nearly ten hours by now and her bones still ache. Her hands feel too heavy to even toss off the blanket.

It’s no time to start the day. Especially not with how shitty she’s been feeling. So she shuts her eyes and let fatigue drag her back to dreamland. At last in her dreams she doesn’t have to deal with these feelings. At least in her dreams, she’s free.

…

It’s ten now and Scarlet wakes slowly once more. And then her heart starts pounding as she sees her phone. How’s she supposed to face anyone now? It’s so much easier to ignore them, but she knows she won’t do that. She lets out a shallow breath of relief as the only messages she sees are from her friends, chatting about some meme on Instagram. But that relief is also tinged with sadness and concern.

There’s nothing from Michael. There hadn’t been for days. Since their last session, he’d all but vanished. And sure, she feels a little angry, because that’s not the agreement they have. Not checking in for days isn’t okay. She already sent him a message yesterday though and sending another today is just overkill. Annoying him wouldn’t do any good.

Scarlet tells herself that she’ll call him out on it the next time they talk. But it’s a hollow lie and she knows it. When he messages next with an apology, she’ll tell him that it’s alright and carry on despite the fact that it’s never alright.

There are so many things she still needs to accomplish. Wasting time thinking about something she can’t change is simply pointless. But the weight in her chest just seems to grow heavier when ignored.

_ It’s just for a little while,  _ she reminds herself,  _ it’ll go away soon. _

The panic remains lodged in her throat throughout the day. During work it’s there, lurking, making it harder to breathe every time she loses focus on what she’s doing. It makes her head feel light and her fingers shaky, so much so that even a simple pen cap turns into an unbeatable foe.

Scarlet gets distracted by the simplest things, the texture of the walls, the feel of the clothes on her skin. And even with the heating off it’s unbearably hot and her stupid jacket won’t come off without a struggle. When she finally wrests it off and dumps it on the floor she has half a mind to chuck it out the window and set it all on fire. Everything feels suffocating, like there isn’t enough air in the world to fill her lungs. It feels like every action takes twice as long to complete and that just makes her feel worse. With muscles fatigued from mentally stressing herself out, and eyes that water whenever she glances at her phone.

It’s the scariest thing she’s ever felt. And it goes on for hours. Even when she’s forced to stop working and try to calm down. 

Nothing fixes it. 

Nothing soothes the ache that’s been rotting away and festering in her chest for months. It’s like when rot takes hold of an apple. First it smells bad… it takes some time, but it smells bad and it’s skin turns soft and wrinkly. Then comes the worms and maggots that slowly whittle away the rotting fruit yet add more mass to it than there was before. Maybe that’s why her heart feels heavier by the minute. Because the rot has long set in and the parasites feeding on it are weighing her down even more. 

She should talk to someone, and she realises that, but there’s  _ no one _ there.

Even now, she refuses to beg someone who doesn’t want to listen or care. It’s pathetic and she refuses. But it doesn’t stop the thought from nagging at her.

…

Michael is great. He’s sweet and funny and maybe a little bratty on occasion. He’s a great sub when we play, always trying his best to follow my instructions and be a good boy. They talk and have a lot in common and ever so slowly, they’re becoming comfortable sharing little personal things with each other. When they play he’s so responsive and everything feels perfect.

But sometimes when he vanishes like this, Scarlet can’t help but wonder if that’s all he desires her for… her ability to provide a good scene. The thought makes her feel dirty and used.

Maybe… maybe if he knew he’d try to at least check in? Maybe things can change if she just reaches out and admits that something’s wrong. And if nothing changes… well she doesn’t know what she’ll do then. Leaving because of it seems wrong but staying and feeling like  _ this _ feels so much worse.

A chance. She can take a chance on him. Her fingers fly across the screen of their own accord. One more try. 

**_Michael?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this... thank you <3
> 
> I'm thinking of showing some OG interactions with Adam and Michael (names that were surprisingly chosen with no relation whatsoever to spn - I am shocked too). It'll help build a connection with those characters and also give some context as to how things degraded.


End file.
